Part 1, Chapter 1

Are There Spirits?

9 min

1. The doubt respecting the existence of spirits has for its first cause ignorance of their true nature. They are usually thought of as beings apart in the creation, and whose necessity is not demonstrated. Many know them only by the fantastic tales heard in their childhood, almost as one knows history by romances: without seeking to find whether these tales, stripped of ridiculous accessories, rest on a foundation of truth, the absurd side alone strikes them: not taking the trouble to strip off the bitter bark to find the almond, they reject the whole; as, in religion, some persons, shocked by certain abuses, confound all in the same reprobation.

1. Doubt about the existence of spirits stems first from ignorance of their true nature. Spirits are usually thought of as beings separate from the rest of creation, whose necessity has not been demonstrated. Many know them only through the fantastic tales they heard as children, much as one might know history through novels. They do not ask whether these tales have a basis in truth once their ridiculous details are stripped away. They notice only the absurdity. Rather than peel away the bitter shell to find the almond, they reject the whole thing. Similarly, some people are shocked by certain abuses in religion and condemn all of it alike.

Whatever may be one's idea of spirits, this belief is necessarily founded on the existence of an intelligent principle outside of matter: it is incompatible with the absolute negation of this principle. We take, then, our point of departure from the existence, the survival, and the individuality of the soul, of which Spiritualism is the theoric and dogmatic demonstration, and Spiritism the manifestation. Let us for a moment make an abstraction of the manifestations, properly so called, and, reasoning by induction, let us see to what consequences we shall arrive.

Whatever one thinks about spirits, belief in them rests on the existence of an intelligent principle outside matter. It is incompatible with a complete denial of that principle. We therefore begin with the existence, survival, and individuality of the soul. Spiritualism demonstrates these in theory and doctrine, while Spiritism manifests them. For a moment, let us set aside the manifestations themselves. Let us reason by induction and see what conclusions we reach.

2. From the moment that the existence of the soul is admitted, and its individuality after death, it must also be admitted, first, that it is of a different nature from the body, since, once separated, it no longer has the properties of the latter: secondly, that it enjoys a consciousness of itself, since to it is attributed happiness or suffering; otherwise it would be an inert being, and of no use for us to have one. This admitted, this soul goes somewhere. What becomes of it, and where does it go? According to the common belief it goes to heaven or hell. But where are heaven and hell? It was said, in other times, that heaven was above and hell below: but what is above and what is below in the universe since the roundness of the earth is known; the movement of the stars, which makes what is above at one given moment become below in twelve hours; the infinity of space, into which the eye plunges to immeasurable distances? It is true that by low places we also understand the depths of the earth; but what has become of those depths since they have been searched into by geology? What, too, of those concentric spheres, called "heaven of fire," "heaven of stars"? since it is known that the earth is not the center of the worlds, that our sun itself is only one of the millions of suns which shine in space, and of which each is the center of a planetary system. What becomes of the importance of the earth, lost in this immensity? By what unjustifiable privilege should this imperceptible grain of sand, distinguished neither by its size, its position, nor any particular character, be alone peopled with reasonable beings?

2. Once we accept that the soul exists and remains an individual after death, we must also accept two things. First, the soul must be different in nature from the body. Once separated from the body, it no longer has the body’s properties. Second, the soul must be conscious of itself, since it is said to experience happiness or suffering. Otherwise, it would be inert, and having a soul would be of no use to us. If we accept this, the soul must go somewhere. What happens to it, and where does it go? According to common belief, it goes to heaven or hell. But where are heaven and hell? In the past, people said that heaven was above and hell below. But what is above and what is below in the universe? We now know that the earth is round. We also know that the movement of the stars makes what is above at one moment below twelve hours later. And we know that space is infinite, and that the eye can gaze into it across immeasurable distances. It is true that “below” can also mean the depths of the earth. But what has become of those depths since geology explored them? What, too, has become of the concentric spheres called "heaven of fire" and "heaven of stars"? We now know that the earth is not the center of the worlds. Our sun itself is only one of millions of suns shining in space. Each is the center of a planetary system. How important is the earth, lost in this vastness? This imperceptible grain of sand is no different in size, position, or any particular feature. What could justify the privilege of its being the only place inhabited by rational beings?

Reason refuses to admit this inutility of the infinite, and everything tells us that these worlds are inhabited. If they are peopled, then they furnish their proportion to the world of souls: but again, what becomes of these souls, since astronomy and geology have destroyed the dwellings that were assigned them? and, above all, since the so rational theory of the plurality of worlds has multiplied them to infinity.

Reason refuses to accept that the infinite is useless, and everything tells us that these worlds are inhabited. If they are inhabited, they each contribute their share to the world of souls. But what becomes of these souls? Astronomy and geology have destroyed the places once assigned as their homes. Above all, the very rational theory of a plurality of worlds has multiplied these souls to infinity.

The doctrine of the localization of souls not agreeing with the facts of science, another more logical doctrine assigns to them as domain, not a determined and circumscribed spot, but universal space: it is an entire invisible world, in the midst of which we live, which surrounds us, and is always in close contact with us. Is there in that an impossibility—anything repugnant to reason? Not at all; on the contrary, everything tells us it can not be otherwise.

The idea that souls are confined to a particular place does not agree with scientific facts. A more logical doctrine gives them not a fixed, limited place, but the whole of space. It describes an entire invisible world in which we live, which surrounds us and is always in close contact with us. Is that impossible or contrary to reason? Not at all. On the contrary, everything tells us it cannot be otherwise.

But, then, future pains and rewards,—what becomes of them, if you take away their special places? Remark that incredulity as to the place of these pains and rewards is generally excited because they are presented in inadmissible conditions: but say, instead, that the souls find their happiness or misery within themselves, that their lot is subordinated to their moral state; that the reunion of good and sympathetic souls is a source of felicity; that, according to the degree of their purification, they penetrate and see into things that vanish before gross souls,—and every one will understand it without trouble. Say, again, that souls reach the supreme degree only through the efforts they make for self-improvement, and after a series of trials which serve for their purification; that the angels are souls that have reached the highest degree, which all may attain by effort; that the angels are God's messengers, charged to watch over the execution of his designs throughout the universe; that they are happy in these glorious missions,—and you give to their felicity a more useful and attractive object than that of a perpetual contemplation, which would be nothing more than a perpetual uselessness. Say, again, that demons are but the souls of the wicked, not yet purified, but which can be, like the others; and that will appear more conformable to the justice and to the goodness of God than the doctrine of being created for evil, and perpetually devoted to evil. Still again, this is what the severest reason, the most exact logic, in a word, good sense, can admit.

But what happens to future suffering and rewards if you take away their special places? People generally doubt these places because they are described in ways they cannot accept. Instead, say that souls find happiness or misery within themselves and that their fate depends on their moral state. Say that good souls and those who sympathize with them find happiness in being together. As souls become purer, they understand and perceive things that remain hidden from less refined souls. Everyone will understand this without difficulty. Say, too, that souls reach the highest level only through their own efforts to improve. They also undergo a series of trials that purify them. Angels are souls who have reached the highest level, which all can attain through effort. They are God's messengers, responsible for watching over the fulfillment of his plans throughout the universe. They find happiness in these glorious missions. This gives their happiness a more useful and attractive purpose than endless contemplation, which would amount to endless uselessness. Say, too, that demons are simply the souls of the wicked. They have not yet been purified, but they can be, like other souls. This seems more consistent with God's justice and goodness than the doctrine that demons were created for evil and condemned to it forever. Once again, this is what the strictest reason, the most exact logic, in short, good sense, can accept.

But these souls that people space are precisely what are called spirits: spirits, then, are but the souls of men stripped of their corporeal envelope. If spirits were beings apart, their existence would be more hypothetical; but if we admit that there are souls, we must also admit spirits, who are naught else but souls: if we admit that souls are everywhere, we must equally admit that spirits are everywhere. The existence of spirits, then, cannot be denied without denying the existence of souls.

But these souls that fill space are precisely what we call spirits: spirits, then, are simply human souls without their physical bodies. If spirits were separate beings, their existence would be more hypothetical. But if we accept that souls exist, we must also accept that spirits exist, since spirits are simply souls. If we accept that souls are everywhere, we must also accept that spirits are everywhere. So we cannot deny the existence of spirits without denying the existence of souls.

3. This, it is true, is only a theory, more rational than the other: but it is much to have a theory contradicted neither by reason nor science: still more, if it is corroborated by facts, it has for itself the sanction of reasoning and experience. We find these facts in the phenomena of spiritual manifestations, which thus are the proofs patent of the existence of the soul, and its survival of the earthly body. But with many persons belief stops short at that point; they fully admit the existence of souls, and, consequently, of spirits; but they deny the possibility of communicating with them, for the reason, they say, that immaterial beings cannot act on matter. This doubt is founded on ignorance of the true nature of spirits, of which a very false idea is generally conceived; for they are wrongly imagined to be abstract, vague, and indefinite beings, which they are not.

3. It is true that this is only a theory, though a more reasonable one than the other. But it is important to have a theory that neither reason nor science contradicts. Better still, if facts support it, the theory has both reason and experience on its side. We find these facts in the phenomena of spiritual manifestations. These plainly prove that the soul exists and survives the earthly body. But many people’s belief goes no further. They fully accept the existence of souls and, consequently, of spirits. But they deny that we can communicate with spirits. They say that immaterial beings cannot act on matter. This doubt comes from ignorance of the true nature of spirits. People generally have a very mistaken idea of them. They wrongly imagine spirits as abstract, vague, and indefinite beings, which they are not.

Let us first speak of the spirit in its union with the body. The spirit is the principal being, since it is the being that thinks and survives; the body is, then, only an accessory of the spirit—an envelope, a clothing, which it abandons when worn out. Besides this material envelope, the spirit has a second, semi-material, which unites it to the first: at death, the spirit strips off the first, but not the second, to which we give the name of périsprit. This semi-material envelope in the human form constitutes for the spirit a fluidic vaporous body, but which, invisible to us in its normal state, does not the less possess some of the properties of matter. The spirit, then, is not a point, an abstraction, but a being, limited and circumscribed, to whom is wanting only the properties of being visible and palpable to resemble human beings. Why, then, can it not act upon matter? Is it because its body is fluidic? But is it not among the most rarefied of fluids, those even regarded as imponderable,—electricity, for instance,—that man finds his most powerful motors? Does not imponderable light exercise a chemical action on ponderable matter? We do not know the specific nature of the périsprit; but let us suppose it formed of electrical matter, or some other equally subtile, why should it not possess the same property when directed by a will?

Let us first consider the spirit in its union with the body. The spirit is the principal being because it thinks and survives. The body is only an accessory of the spirit, a covering or garment it abandons when worn out. Besides this material covering, the spirit has a second, semi-material covering that connects it to the first. At death, the spirit sheds the first but not the second, which we call the périsprit. This semi-material covering has a human form and gives the spirit a fluid, vaporous body. Although normally invisible to us, this body still has some properties of matter. The spirit, then, is not a point or an abstraction. It is a being with definite limits and boundaries. It lacks only visibility and tangibility to resemble a human being. Why, then, can the spirit not act upon matter? Is it because its body is fluid? Yet do we not find our most powerful sources of motion among the most rarefied fluids? Some of these fluids, such as electricity, are even regarded as weightless. Does not weightless light have a chemical effect on matter that has weight? We do not know the exact nature of the périsprit. But suppose it is made of electrical matter or some other equally subtle substance. Why should it not have the same power when directed by a will?

4. The existence of a soul, and that of God,—the consequence one of the other,—being the base of the whole superstructure, before entering into a spiritual discussion it is necessary to assure ourselves if the interlocutor admits this base.

4. The existence of the soul and the existence of God, each a consequence of the other, are the foundation of everything that follows. Before discussing spiritual matters, we must make sure the other person accepts this foundation.

If to these questions,—

If to these questions,

Do you believe in God?

Do you believe in God?

Do you believe you have a soul?

Do you believe you have a soul?

Do you believe in the survival of the soul after death?—he answers negatively, or even if he simply says, "I don't know; I hope it may be so, but I am not sure,"—the most frequent equivalent to a polite negation, disguised under less offensive form to avoid shocking too abruptly what are called respectable prejudices,—it would be equally as useless to go further, as to undertake to demonstrate the properties of light to a blind man, who would not admit the existence of light; for, finally, spiritual manifestations are naught else but the effects of the properties of the soul: with such a person quite another order of ideas should be entered upon, if one would not lose one's time.

If you ask, “Do you believe the soul survives death?” and he says no, there is no use going further. The same is true if he simply says, "I don't know; I hope it may be so, but I am not sure." This answer is most often a polite way of saying no, disguised to avoid shocking what are called respectable prejudices too abruptly. Going further would be as useless as trying to demonstrate the properties of light to a blind man who denies that light exists. After all, spiritual manifestations are nothing more than effects of the soul’s properties. If you do not want to waste your time with such a person, you must begin with quite different ideas.

If the base is admitted, not as a probability, but as a positively declared, incontestable thing, the existence of spirits naturally flows from it.

If the basis is accepted not as a probability, but as an established, unquestionable fact, the existence of spirits naturally follows.

5. There now remains the question to know if the spirit can communicate with man; that is to say, if he can exchange ideas with man. And why not? What is man, if not a spirit imprisoned in a body? Why should not the free spirit communicate with the captive spirit, as the free man with one who is enchained? While you admit the survival of the soul, is it rational not to admit the survival of the affections? Since souls are everywhere, is it not natural to think that the soul of a being who has loved us during his life should come near to us, and should use for that purpose the means at his disposal? During his life did he not act on the matter of his body? Was it not he who directed its movements? Why, then, after his death, being in accord with another spirit bound to a body, should he not borrow this body to manifest his thought, as a dumb person uses a speaker to make himself understood?

5. The question remains whether a spirit can communicate with a person, that is, whether they can exchange ideas. And why not? What is a person if not a spirit imprisoned in a body? Why shouldn’t a free spirit communicate with a captive spirit, just as a free person can communicate with a prisoner? If you accept that the soul survives, is it rational to deny that affection survives too? Souls are everywhere. So isn’t it natural to think that the soul of someone who loved us in life would come near us, using whatever means are available? During life, didn’t that soul act on the matter of its body? Didn’t it direct the body’s movements? Why, then, after death, couldn’t it act in agreement with another spirit bound to a body and borrow that body to express its thoughts? It would be like a person unable to speak using someone else to speak for them.

6. Let us for a moment make an abstract of the facts which, for us, render the thing incontestable; let us admit it in the shape of a simple hypothesis; we ask that the skeptical prove to us, not by a simple negation,—for their personal opinion does not make a law,—but by peremptory reasons, that it cannot be.

6. Let us set aside for a moment the facts that make this certain to us. Let us treat it as a simple hypothesis. We ask skeptics to prove that it cannot be true. A simple denial is not enough, because their personal opinion does not make the law. They must give conclusive reasons.

We plant ourselves on their ground, and since they wish to appraise spiritual facts by the aid of material laws, let them draw from that arsenal some mathematical, physical, chemical, mechanical, physiological demonstration, and prove by a plus b, always beginning from the principle of the existence and survival of the soul,—

We meet them on their own ground. Since they want to judge spiritual facts by material laws, let them draw on those laws for a mathematical, physical, chemical, mechanical, or physiological demonstration. Let them prove it as clearly as a plus b, always starting from the principle that the soul exists and survives.

First. That the being who thinks in us during life should think no longer after death.

First. That the being who thinks within us during life stops thinking after death.

Second. That if he thinks, he should not think of those he has loved.

Second. That if he thinks, he should not think about those he has loved.

Third. That if he thinks of those he has loved, he should not wish to communicate with them.

Third. That if he thinks of those he has loved, he should not want to communicate with them.

Fourth. That if he can be everywhere, he cannot be by our side.

Fourth. That if he can be everywhere, he cannot be by our side.

Fifth. That if he is by our side, he cannot communicate with us.

Fifth. That if he is beside us, he cannot communicate with us.

Sixth. That by his fluidic envelope he cannot act on inert matter.

Sixth. That he cannot act on inert matter through his fluidic envelope.

Seventh. That if he can act on inert matter, he cannot act on an animated being.

Seventh. That if he can act on lifeless matter, he cannot act on a living being.

Eighth. That if he can act on an animated being, he cannot direct his hand to make him write.

Eighth. That if he can act on a living being, he cannot guide that being's hand to make him write.

Ninth. That, being able to make him write, he cannot answer his questions, and transmit to him his thoughts.

Ninth. That, although he can make him write, he cannot answer his questions or communicate his thoughts to him.

When the adversaries of Spiritism shall have demonstrated to us that this cannot be, by reasons as patent as those by which Galileo demonstrated that it is not the sun that turns around the earth, then we shall be able to say their doubts are well founded. Unhappily, up to this day all their arguments are comprised in these words: "I do not believe it; therefore it is impossible." They will, doubtless, say that it is for us to prove the reality of the manifestations. We prove it to them by reasoning and by facts: if they admit neither one nor the other, if they deny even what they see, it is for them to prove that our reasoning is false, and our facts impossible.

When the opponents of Spiritism prove to us that this cannot happen, we can say their doubts are well founded. Their reasons must be as clear as Galileo’s demonstration that the sun does not revolve around the earth. Unfortunately, until now, all their arguments amount to these words: "I do not believe it; therefore it is impossible." They will no doubt say that it is up to us to prove that the manifestations are real. We prove this to them through reasoning and facts. But if they accept neither, and even deny what they see, they must prove our reasoning false and our facts impossible.